Limited-Time Attachment - Chapter 7

Truth be told, Song Ming was actually a little tempted.

She lay flat on her bed, one hand tucked behind her head while the other held that pitch-black room card. Her fingers flipped the card with practiced agility, making it look like a black butterfly fluttering between her fingertips.

No entanglements, no talk of love.

It sounded genuinely enticing, perfectly aligned with her “freedom above all” creed.

If only the person willing to “not talk of love” with her were someone else.

Song Ming’s gaze fell upon the logo printed on the top left corner of the room card. For a split second, she wondered if Chen Yang was a plant sent by Song Yunjie to test her. This hotel was part of the Song family’s holdings, and Song Ming herself held shares. However, she had already left the Song Group. Given the results of the power struggle between the two less than brilliant Song sons, this particular brand was currently under Song Yunjie’s management.

Forget it.

With a flick of her wrist, Song Ming tossed the room card aside. The thin card tumbled across the bed and clattered onto the floor.

For the umpteenth time, Song Ming passed up a thrill that had been delivered right to her hand.

Clearly, she craved change, yet she was perpetually too lazy to accept any newcomers who entered her field of vision. Song Ming didn’t think it was her own problem, she had enough capital to match someone who suited her tastes. Ultimately, it must be that the people around her weren’t excellent enough, none could actually make her heart skip a beat.

Song Ming stood up, grabbed her phone from the low cabinet, and pulled open the wardrobe door.

On the other end of the line, Ji Shan answered quickly, his voice coming through the waves with a hint of cheer: “Boss Song, how do you have time to call me?”

“Just letting you know,” Song Ming said as she slid her arm into the sleeve of her coat, “don’t look for me for the next half month. I have things to do.”

“Huh?” Ji Shan froze, his forced cheerfulness coming to an abrupt halt. “You’re not going to photograph the swimmers anymore? What about your upcoming work?”

Song Ming was never one who had to photograph anyone specific. She continued sliding her other arm into the sleeve. “Do I even have a fixed job? Hand the later tasks to Luo Ren or whoever…”

As she pulled her coat out, Song Ming didn’t notice a bundle of fabric falling out of the wardrobe.

Ji Shan’s voice drifted further away: “President Song, my great Boss Song, you really are my living ancestor. Leaving just like that… can’t we discuss this further?”

The call remained connected, but Song Ming was no longer paying attention.

…What kind of person keeps an ex’s clothing?

Someone reminiscing? Someone still in love? Or… someone who refuses to give up?

Laughable.

Song Ming rarely even thought of Zhou Jibai, so how could she “refuse to give up”?

She was merely a passerby in a long life back then, Song Ming was still little more than a youth. A youth’s heart is never settled, how could a momentary love be taken seriously?

Song Ming held the thin camisole nightgown between her fingers. The Morandi grey fabric was soft and silky, with long, slender straps.

It was the style Zhou Jibai favored most.

On many gentle, sunny mornings in the past, Zhou Jibai would walk through her house wearing this gown. She would come to the bedside to wake her or exchange a long, lingering breath with her. Song Ming still remembered the slight, itchy sensation of Zhou Jibai’s slightly curled chestnut hair brushing against her skin. Zhou Jibai’s perfume, rich but not overpowering was like a fine wine that had been sealed for years.

Song Ming had never thrown away the things Zhou Jibai left behind. Even if they just sat there taking up space, she simply packed them away in a cabinet she rarely opened.

But Song Ming didn’t consider this “longing.”

Only those whose hearts are constantly yearning and whose memories won’t stop playing need to clear away every trace of an old flame’s existence to temporarily block out the madness of their thoughts.

Song Ming didn’t need to do that.

Zhou Jibai was simply the passerby who had stayed the longest in her life, no different from anyone else. She didn’t need to expend effort specifically to scrub away the traces of Zhou Jibai’s existence.

She tucked away the old nightgown, which had long since lost its warmth and looked lonely and faded, then headed out the door with nothing but her phone.

The parking spot was right downstairs. Song Ming walked unhurriedly past the greenery, her mind calculating how to provoke those two idiots into a frenzy once she arrived at the Song family manor.

Lost in thought, Song Ming didn’t notice her surroundings until a figure wearing a hoodie, a short skirt, and sneakers suddenly darted out, stopping directly in her path.

The girl stood so close that Song Ming nearly crashed into her.

The newcomer didn’t speak. Song Ming took a half-step back to look her over. The girl’s baseball cap was pressed low, making it impossible to see her face, but her fair, long legs were displayed with proud confidence beneath the short skirt.

“…Ruan Jinjin?” Song Ming narrowed her eyes and spoke.